


It's a Little Bit Complicated

by CupcakeGirlA



Category: Olympics RPF, Real Person Fiction, Speed Skating RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-27
Updated: 2011-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-28 05:24:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupcakeGirlA/pseuds/CupcakeGirlA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apolo’s feelings about JR have always been a little bit… complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Apolo’s feelings about JR have always been a little bit complicated, a little bit confused. He can remember meeting him for the very first time. He remembers being 11 years old and living for the speed of his in-line skates. He remembers racing and racing and racing, and never seeming to get tired. Never wanting to stop. He remembers Sue and Bob Celski and their three loud bouncing kids coming into the rink for the first time. Remembers watching them while skating lazily in circles and waiting for practice to start. He watched them supervise their older two sons as they put on their equipment, first one and then the other. Pads and helmets, and skates, and off they went, a little wobbly but laughing, chasing each other out into the rink. That’s when Apolo noticed the third boy; noticed JR. He was so tiny, only 3 or 4, all big dark head and big dark eyes, and small everything else. Apolo watched as Sue held him in her lap, while Bob strapped the baby-skates on over his shoes, watched as he stood up and grinned so big at the feel of wheels under his feet. Apolo remembers seeing the joy in JR’s face and the determination in his eyes as he looked out at the rink full of older boys and girls. Apolo had known then, though he hadn’t been able to really place the feeling, that JR was made for skating.

Apolo became friends of a sort with Chris, who was nearly his age, just a few months older, but not a particularly great skater, and with David, who was a few years younger than them both, but nearly as tall. They’d skated together for a while, a year or two, when Apolo sees short track at the Olympics on TV and falls in love all over again. Their friendship kind of fizzled out soon after, when Apolo was so wrapped up in his blades and his trips up to Vancouver and back to come over as often. By then they’ve been friendly long enough that he’s played at their house a couple dozen times. Often enough that he gets to start liking their mom’s cooking, and gets invited to see JR race his first real race on real skates. Apolo sits with Sue and Bob and David and Chris, and cheers on little JR as he races around the rink, so fast for someone so small. Apolo watches him win and then win again, his little arms thrown up in victory each time, his helmet on crooked, and his grin huge. It’s strange he thinks 3 years later, that what he misses most about hanging out with the Celski’s is not skating or playing basketball out back with Chris and David, but their mom’s cooking and warm hugs, and JR’s smile when he’d raced and won. Eventually, however, Apolo stops thinking about the Celski’s all together. After losing out on the 1998 Olympic team, and his decision to try hard-core for 2002, he doesn’t have much time to reminisce about the family he used to know for a whole year and a half back home in Federal Way.

He doesn’t think about JR at all for quite some time. Not until after practice one day when he hears a few of the younger guys talking about the most recent Juniors competition, about the new up-and-comers. Celski isn’t the most common of names, so when he hears it mentioned, he automatically tunes in. So JR Celski was still skating, and had switched to ice? This was interesting news. When Apolo gets home that night he looks up JR’s name, watches him skate a race on some website, feels his stomach do a funny flip. Because it’s JR. It’s JR just like he remembers him only not. He still puts his arms up when he wins and his grin’s the same. And when he whips his helmet off he’s still got the dark hair, and dark eyes. Apolo watches the race again, watching the kids form, taking notice of his strengths and weaknesses. The kid’s good. The kid’s a natural. Apolo shuts the computer off and that night he dreams about being back at Pattison’s West, of skating and racing, only he’s not by himself (like he usually is), JR’s there too, only he’s not four anymore, he’s 14 and he’s the only one Apolo’s competing against. They race for what feels like forever, and at the last moment JR pulls ahead and crosses the finish line first. He turns to look at Apolo, his grin familiar, his eyes determined. Apolo wakes up smiling.

It’s a year later at Summer Training in Marquette that he meets JR face to face again. He’s been picked for the Junior Development team, and he is so excited to be there. JR walks around with an awed expression on his face, trying to play it cool and (honestly) failing miserably. He feels JR’s eyes on him everywhere he goes, but the kid hasn’t talked to him yet, though his eagerness to do so is nearly palpable. Apolo skates over at the end of practice one day, picks up his plastic skate guards from where they sit on the mats, near where JR is perched watching. JR’s eyes slide away and he tenses up. Apolo opens the water he left there taking a big gulp, and leans one hip against the boards.

“Hey!” he says, waving a hand in JR’s direction. JR looks shocked that Apolo is talking to him, and Apolo wonders if maybe the rumors of his ego have spread to the Junior levels already. JR looks at him with those familiar brown eyes and kind of smiles hesitantly.

“Hey,” he says quietly.

“You’re JR, right? JR Celski?” Apolo asks. He watches the eyes get wider.

“Yeah,” he says softly. Apolo grins.

“You probably don’t remember me, but I think we used to skate at the same rink. I used to race your brother, Chris,” Apolo says. JR grins.

“Of course I remember you!” he answers back. “You always beat Chris, but he never seemed to really mind.” Apolo smiles.

“That’s Chris for you.” Apolo scoots further down the wall, moving closer. “I don’t think he was that interested in winning. He just wanted to have fun. How’s he doing?” Apolo asks. “And David? Your parents?” He says smiling. That gets JR talking. He learns all about JR’s move with Chris to California, about David’s ROTC training. They only talk for a few minutes, before JR seems to realize who exactly it is he’s talking too. He slowly stops talking. Apolo feels his gut clench, as the wonder and awe creep back into JR’s expression.

“Well, I’m glad to hear everyone’s doing so well. Hey, tell your brother Chunky says hi, will ya?” JR nods, looked like he couldn’t have said anything if he wanted too, and Apolo wants to wish him luck, can’t not wish him luck. “Look, kid, you’re doing great so far. I’ve been watching you skate. You’re good. A few years from now, and you’ll definitely be on your way to Vancouver. Keep your eye on the prize, ok?” JR nods, but doesn’t say anything. Apolo clamps a hand down on JR’s shoulder and then steps off the ice, slipping on his blade covers, and heading for the locker room. He ignores the whispers breaking out behind him as the other juniors flock to JR. “Woah, he talked to you!” one of them hisses loudly, only to be shushed by another.

Apolo makes it a point to hangout after dry-land the next day. He sits outside in the sun, and smiles welcomingly at the juniors huddled in the shade until a few of them venture closer. They ask hesitant questions, as if unsure whether to bother him. He smiles up at them from the middle of the sidewalk and motions them closer still. He watches JR exit the building, shielding his face from the sun, and calls out to him. JR pauses, looking confused before recognizing Apolo and coming closer. Apolo gestures to an empty spot nearby and smiles up at him.

“JR, pull up some concrete!” he watches JR sit down hesitantly, then Apolo turns back to the new senior Jordan, listens as he cracks a joke and everyone laughs. It is only a few minutes later that one of the kids pulls out a pad of paper, and asks hesitantly for a signature. Apolo’s smile freezes, but he agrees, and soon he’s signing one for everyone who asks, using up pages and pages of the kids paper, but he doesn’t seem to mind, so Apolo doesn’t care. Soon the lunch break starts to wind down, and most of the kids scramble up to go grab something before they have to get back to the gym. Apolo stays seated, and so does, JR. He watches as JR reaches into his pocket and pulls out an apple and starts munching on it, his knees pulled up to his chest. ‘He didn’t ask for an autograph,’ Apolo thinks. “How you doing, kid?” he asks. JR smiles brightly.

“Good. It’s a bit intimidating, being here, you know?” JR asks. “Like being here, for real?” he pauses then. “What was it like to win?” he asks hesitantly. Apolo smiles, remembering.

“It was good. It could have been better. The whole thing with the Korean,” he shrugs his shoulders.

“You think you’ll medal again next year?” Apolo nods.

“I hope so. Might be my last chance. I’ll do my best,” Apolo answers. JR nods.

“It was nice of you to sign so many autographs. You could have said no,” JR says taking another huge bite of his apple.

“Then I’d really deserve my rep as a total asshole,” Apolo replies, surprising a laugh out of JR.

“You could never be a total asshole,” the kid teases back.

“I can be, on occasion,” Apolo admits.

“Seem nice enough to me…” JR mutters.

“You’ve only had like two conversations with me since we met up again. Give me some time and you’ll see what a jerk I can be. It’s inevitable.”

“Like death and taxes?” JR asks. Apolo laughs and nods.

“Exactly! Like death, taxes, or the end of a race. Apolo will eventually be an asshole to someone over something.” JR laughs finishing his apple.

“I’ll keep that in mind, and try not to hold it against you when the inevitable happens,” JR says smirking.

“You do that,” Apolo says stretching his neck back, pressing his face upward toward the sun.

“Apolo, can I ask you something?” JR says hesitantly, pitching his apple core into the nearby trashcan.

“Of course,” he says, sitting up to look at JR again. The kid was now curled in on himself.

“People are comparing me to you,” JR says hesitantly. “A lot of people are actually.”

“Does that bother you?” Apolo asks. JR shakes his head.

“No of course not. I mean, you’re the great Apolo Anton Ohno. You’re the reason I started short track! Watching you win,” he shook his head again. “Watching you win was amazing! It made me want to switch to ice. It made me want to do all of this,” he stops then, realizing he is gushing. “I want to know if it bothers you, that people are comparing us.”

“Why would it bother me?” Apolo asks. “We’re from the same place, skated on the same rink, and you win a lot. What’s not to compare?” JR grins at him.

“It really doesn’t bother you?” JR asks. Apolo grins back; JR not picking up on the complete fakeness of the expression.

“I didn’t even know until you just told me. I can think of worse Juniors to be compared too,” Apolo stands up then, ignoring the flash of hurt coming over JR’s face. “I’ll see you around, kid.”

Apolo goes inside and finds a quiet out of the way corner to sink down into. He sits curled into the V of two walls, knees pulled up to his chest. Why does what this kid thinks mean so much to him? Why does he want to impress this kid, and coach this kid, and befriend this kid all at the same time? And why does the hero worship in the kids eyes cause his stomach to try and revolt? He puts his head down on his knees, and breathes, but no answer comes. He’s nice to JR for the rest of camp, answers his questions, and poses for a few pictures with him, but he can’t bring himself to really talk to him again, not like before. The look JR gets in his eyes when the Olympics are mentioned even briefly makes Apolo uncomfortable, and he still can’t place why.

When camp is over, JR goes back to Cali, and Apolo goes to Salt Lake City for training. He goes to Torino, he wins 3 more medals, he comes home and after the media frenzy, he takes some time off. He stops and thinks about where he is, and what he’s done. And no matter how many times he looks at his 5 Olympic medals, holds the two gold, he never feels like he’s done. He never feels like it’s over and time to move on. So after only a few months off (to do DWTS) he heads back to the gym, back to competition. He wants Vancouver. He wants it because it’s a third Olympics. Because it’s in Vancouver, so close to home he could practically commute. He refuses to think about JR, already approaching Senior level capabilities and such a natural talent that Apolo doesn’t doubt he’ll be going to 2010. DWTS was a welcome distraction.

It’s a year later that JR shows up in Salt Lake City, ready to train, ready to work his ass off to get to Vancouver. Things are better, Apolo thinks. JR’s grown up in the last 2 ½ years. He’s taller, taller than Apolo now, and slender, but still so energetic and excited to be there. He makes Apolo feel old. When Simon Cho shows up to train too, Apolo feels even older than before. Most of the guys from 2006 are gone now, Apolo is one of the last hold outs still trying for one more games. He watches JR and Jordan joking around, watches them hang out with Travis and make fun of Simon. He throws himself into his own training, focusing on his diet, and his ridiculous schedule. Thinking about JR, and his confusion over the kid, is nothing but a distraction. So Apolo keeps his distance. He hangs out with the guys occasionally, and he sees them all the time, but he’s not really one of them, not completely. He’d blame it on his age, but Jordan and Travis aren’t that much younger.

Despite himself, Apolo gets to know them all, starts to really like them all. It’s strange to think he inspired some of them to start short track. He still remembers Shani asking him for an autograph for Simon when he was still “the new kid,” who was too scared to ask for one himself. But slowly he does get closer to them, starts calling Simon “Ace,” watches it become a running joke, lets Travis take over as team leader, gives up the title freely.

In the build up for the Olympics, the media sets their eyes on JR, and soon enough Apolo starts getting asked about him in nearly every interview he gives leading up to Olympic Trials. He answers honestly. JR’s a natural. He’s got talent. He’ll do well. No he doesn’t think of himself as JR’s mentor, but yes, he thinks it’s cool he inspired him to start. He’s known him since he was 3 or 4, they were from the same place, the same rink even, and yeah of course he’s proud. JR’s gotten better about the whole dropped mouth wide eyed awe thing. He still watches Apolo when he skates as if trying to learn every move he makes, to figure out how his mind works as far as strategy goes, but slowly he learns to have conversations with him that go beyond medal counts, and adoration. But every once in a while, he’ll say something or it will hit him who it is he’s talking too, and he’ll blush and get shy, and Apolo’s smile will freeze up again.

Apolo still dreams about JR, which makes him feel perverted to a certain degree. Sure the kids 18 now, but still, Apolo’s nearing 26. That’s a pretty big age difference. But there’s something about JR that draws him in. Sometimes during practice he’ll watch a practice heat, watch as JR wins and throw his hands up, his smile taking over his face. It’s then that he’ll remember JR’s first race, just four years old, and his utter delight at winning it all.

Trials. Apolo cringes when he thinks about the fall. It had been nice to see Sue and Bob again, but the fall... Apolo doesn’t want to think about it. Doesn’t want to remember sitting in the heat box, watching it happen, and being too far away to stop it. He doesn’t like to remember Sue’s screaming pleading voice, and the silence of the crowd. He swallows down bile as he remembers the blood, and smiles at the press conference, trying to be optimistic about what he knows could be a career ending injury. That night, Apolo goes home and he curls up in his bed and he cries. He can’t think about anything but the little four year old boy who took so much joy from racing, and deserved the Olympics so much.

But it’s not a career ending injury, and Apolo is so proud when JR shows up in SLC ahead of schedule. His leg is weak, but whole, and he’s more determined than ever before. Training picks-up in the build-up for the games, and JR’s changed, he’s more mature, hungrier for the games than he was before the fall.

 

They go to Vancouver. Apolo tries not to be disappointed with his medals. Two Bronze and a Silver are nothing to laugh at, nothing to be ashamed of. But he’d wanted another gold. He’d wanted to end his career at the top, not at the second or even third step. But he breaks the record, and he did his best, which is all he can really hope for. He has 8 Olympic Medals, and he got to stand on the podium 3 times these Olympic Games. And JR was up there with him not once but twice. Apolo’s more proud of JR than he is of himself, which is saying something when one considers Apolo’s ego and general self-confidence.

After the Olympics, he doesn’t see the team for a while. Apolo’s busy and so are they. They have worlds, and vacations to go on, and trips to take. He can’t even begin to keep track of who is where. It’s not until they’re all in DC, a full 2 months after the Olympics, where all 5 of them are together again in one room for any period of time. It’s good to see them all again, but it feels like it’s been a whole lifetime. JR looks tired, but Apolo is frankly exhausted.

He’s surprised when JR shows up at his hotel room on Wednesday night. JR looks nervous, and shy and it makes Apolo’s blood run a little cold. He lets him in, offers to order him some dinner. JR asks for a burger, and Apolo rolls his eyes but gets him one, orders a fish dish for himself, and they settle into the living room to wait for it.

He asks what JR’s been up too, and JR starts talking. He tells Apolo about his trip across Europe, about the things he saw, and the people he met. He tells Apolo about Worlds, and the DQ that was completely fucking unfair. Apolo doesn’t tell him that he had watched it streaming online from some random hotel room at like 5am, that he knows all about this, that he’s seen his tweets and his twit-pics, and that he even watched some of those fucking webcasts, because that just seems creepy and stalkerish. They fall quiet after 20 minutes or so. A knock on the door breaks the awkward silence. Room service.

Apolo tips the guy, brings the tray over to the coffee table, watches JR come to sit beside him on the couch. ‘Too close, too fucking close!’ his mind shouts but Apolo ignores it.

“Apolo?” JR says hesitantly.

“Yeah?” he replies smiling at JR. But then JR’s kissing him, climbing up into Apolo’s lap, and his tongue is in Apolo’s mouth. Apolo lets himself kiss back for a full minute, before pulling away. He looks at JR, his eyes bright, his face red, his mouth open and panting. When JR tries to dive in for another kiss, Apolo stops him, hands braced on JR’s shoulders.

“Apolo?” JR asks, confused. Apolo takes a deep breath.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Apolo whispers. He watches JR’s eyes, sees the hurt flash there. “This isn’t right. We shouldn’t be doing this,” Apolo whispers again.

“Oh,” JR sighs, his face crumpling. He moves off of Apolo’s lap. Apolo sits up further.

“JR?” he tries, but JR’s standing up off the couch, and making a bee-line for the door. Apolo jumps up off the couch, diving after him. He’s grabs JR by the shoulder. “JR!” he yells. JR freezes.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Jesus, just let me go. I won’t bother you again, Apolo, I promise. Just let me leave!” JR pleads.

“Where are you going to go?” he asks. JR turns to look at him, and he’s got tears in his eyes, but he’s not letting them fall. “Back to Baltimore?” he asks. “You have any idea what a cab like that will cost you at this time of night. Just come back, eat your dinner.” JR shakes his head.

“I can’t stay here. I’m sorry. I just, I gotta go!” JR is out the door before Apolo can stop him. The door slamming shut between them is loud, and it echoes through Apolo’s head. He leans against it, banging his head against the sturdy wood, and turning to slide down to the floor.

“That could have gone better,” he whispers to himself. He eats the burger, and hates himself a little bit in the morning.

 

From there things got awkward. With Apolo’s official retirement and move to LA, he rarely has reason to run into JR. Berkeley is pretty far away, and Apolo doesn’t get out to SLC very often. For 2 years JR is focused on school the majority of the time, and Apolo’s busy working on his post-skating career. Their paths don’t cross very often, and when they do JR is cordial but distant. He avoids meeting Apolo’s eyes, and he keeps a minimum of two feet between them at all times. Apolo feels his heart break a little bit each time JR shuffles away, smiling that fake smile. It’s bad, worse than he had hoped it would be. And it gets more and more frustrating each time they meet up. At one point Apolo can’t take it anymore, and he gets JR alone in a empty room, blocking his exit. JR stands at the back of the room, his face angry and scared. Apolo sighs, running his hands through his hair.

“Please stop this,” he begs. JR looks at him in confusion.

“Stop what, exactly?” he asks.

“Acting like I’m going to hit you if you get too close. I’d rather you be angry with me than scared!” Apolo says. JR’s face changes.

“I’m just confused. I’m trying to give you what you want, Apolo!”

“You don’t know what I want!”

“You pushed me away!” JR snaps. “It was pretty clear!”

“I told you it wasn’t right. That doesn’t mean I didn’t want too!” Apolo protests. “I’ve wanted to for longer than you can imagine. Longer than it was fucking legal for me to want to kiss you!” JR freezes at that.

“Then why did you push me away!?” he asks, moving closer. “If you wanted it than why did you do that to me?” He’s angry now. Apolo looks down, shakes his head.

“I’ve been telling myself I couldn’t have you for a long damn time, JR! I’ve been waiting for you to grow up. But it surprised me, when you kissed me. I wasn’t expecting it. I wasn’t ready for it. And...” he trails off then. JR moves closer.

“And?” he asks.

“I didn’t know if you were kissing me because you wanted me, or if it was the left over hero worship,” he says quietly. JR squawks in protest.

“What?!” he asks. “Hero worship?” Apolo sighs. “You’re really as egotistical as everyone’s always said! I don’t think I saw it back when we first met; but you really are an asshole, aren’t you?” JR growls. Apolo sets his jaw, turning away from him.

“I am an asshole on occasion. I believe I told you that when we first saw each other in Marquette. I warned you that I could be!” Apolo says. “But that’s not what this is about. Think for a minute JR. You think of yourself as my, what? My heir apparent? My protégé?” he asks. He watches JR’s face shut down. “Tell me honestly,” he prods, backing JR into the wall, JR’s breath comes faster and faster, with what Apolo recognizes as arousal, “when you kissed me,” Apolo leans closer, his lips nearing JR’s. “You had just a little bit of a thrill that it was the Great Apolo Anton Ohno, you were kissing, didn’t you?” he asks, pressing close. JR jerks against him, shoving at his shoulders, his face burning red with embarrassment and shame.

“Fuck you, Apolo!” JR swears. Apolo backs away, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” he says quietly, his voice breaking. The tone shocks JR, who looks at him in confusion. “Next time you kiss me,” Apolo whispers looking anywhere but at JR, “I want it to be because you see me, not my fucking medals. Because when I see you I don’t think about what races you’ve won, JR. I think about how funny and passionate and smart and dedicated you are. I think about your smile and how much you love to race. I think about hanging out with you. I think about YOU.” He leaves without glancing at JR, this time it is him closing the door between them.

The next time Apolo and JR meet, it’s in SLC. Apolo’s come by to visit before Olympic trials start. Jordan and Travis, Simon and JR, they’re all still in the game and they’ve all got a chance. Apolo’s in town for a few days, and he comes by to watch them skate, to watch them practice, and to see how they’re all doing. Apolo’s been approached by NBC, who want him to be their go-to-guy for everything short track. Jordan laughs when Apolo tells him that he’ll be back after trials with a film crew to interview the new team. JR is still distant, but it’s not cold anymore. He hugs Apolo when he sees him the first time, shakes his hand when he leaves. They have several real honest conversations but neither of them mention the last two times they saw each other. There’s no kissing, but Apolo leaves with a lighter heart, because this time when JR watches him, there is no hero worship in his eyes. No awe or over eager excitement to have Apolo’s attention. There is happiness to see him, and a little bit of longing, but also something warmer, something softer. Apolo wishes him good-luck, and hugs him good-bye.

He’s back a few weeks later, in a professional capacity, to interview the new team, which is mostly the old team with just one new addition. It makes Apolo laugh when he sees the standings. JR is the top US Men’s Short Track Speed Skater, with Simon behind him in second, Jordan in third, Travis in fifth, and some new kid named Tyler in fourth. He grins when he sees them all fresh off their team pictures, excited and energetic and bouncing around in celebration. When Apolo turns the corner, he’s suddenly jumped on by four guys, all wanting him to share their excitement. Apolo ignores the cameras as he ends up hugging each of his old friends, shaking Tyler’s hand. The kids quiet, doesn’t seem to want to talk to Apolo, he’s too busy staring at him. The interview is a bit of a joke really. It feels silly asking the guys where they’re from and about their training schedules. The guys seem as awkwardly amused by it all as he is. They answer his questions though, and only rag on him once the cameras are turned off. He takes them all out to dinner afterward, spends the entire dinner reminiscing about Vancouver, and catching up on everyone’s non-short track related lives.

The dinner lasts two hours before the guys start calling it a night. First Jordan and Travis, then Simon tugging a reluctant Tyler away, until it’s just JR and Apolo left sitting at the table. Apolo sips his (one and only) glass of wine, and watches JR across the table. JR’s sipping his own glass, something that Apolo hadn’t been completely prepared for. But JR’s 23 now, he’s old enough to drink. He’s old enough to do pretty much anything and everything now. The thought makes Apolo’s stomach twist a little. They sit in silence a few minutes but it isn’t loaded or awkward, and slowly Apolo starts to relax back into his seat. JR smiles at him suddenly, leaning forward across the table.

“I want to apologize,” he says quietly. Apolo’s eyes meet his. “You were right. I wanted you, and a part of me was still a little excited by what you’d done instead of who you really are.” JR looks down a moment, taking another drink of wine, before meeting Apolo’s eyes again. “You were right to stop it. You were right about it being the wrong time for the wrong reasons. I want you to know I’m not mad anymore.” Apolo smiles at him.

“That’s good to hear. It was never my intention to hurt you,” he offers. JR laughs.

“I know. I understand that now. I’m glad it didn’t ruin our friendship.”

“I’ve missed you,” Apolo says softly. JR grins.

“I missed you, too,” he says, stifling a yawn, which has Apolo checking his watch.

“You have practice tomorrow?” he asks. JR nods, rolling his eyes. “I fly out in the morning, we should probably get going.” JR sighs but agrees. Paying the tab, JR and Apolo leave together. Stepping out into the autumn evening Apolo walks JR to his car. When they get there JR stops and turns to look at Apolo.

“I’m glad you’ll be with us in Sochi. It wouldn’t be the same without you there, even if you won’t be on skates.”

“I wouldn’t miss it. You guys are like family. I’d have come even if NBC didn’t hire me too.” JR grins at that, biting his lip. He steps closer to Apolo, reaching out and resting a hand on Apolo’s shoulder.

“I’ll see you in Sochi?” he asks. Apolo nods, suddenly solemn.

“I’m proud of you, JR,” he says quietly. JR smiles.

“I’m proud of me, too,” he steps closer again, and leaning down, stops just before pressing a kiss to Apolo’s mouth, stands with his mouth just hovering there a moment. He pulls away, smiles genuinely, and steps back. “I’ll see you in February,” he whispers. Apolo nods, licking his dry lips, looking confused. JR grins wider. “After I win my own gold medal, yours aren’t going to mean anything special,” he teases. Apolo laughs, ducking his head and backing away from the car.

“We’ll see about that. You have my number. Call me, JR!” he says over his shoulder.

 

In Sochi, Apolo runs around interviewing skaters from every country entered into the races. He’s sort of weirdly amused that he’s now interviewing the South Koreans, but they’re not quite as happy about it. He knows for a fact that a good number of them speak enough English to understand his questions, and even enough to answer them. But all of the skaters look at him with wide falsely-confused eyes and keep their mouths shut. He looks into the camera, smiles, and shrugs his shoulders. He knows NBC will run it as the continuing feud between USA and South Korea, when really it’s just a continuing coldness between Apolo and the South Koreans. He knows the rest of his old team gets on rather well with the Korean team, probably better than they do with any of the others, language barrier or no.

He manages to pin each of the guys on team USA down, and then all of the girls as well, interviewing them and wishing them all good-luck in the lead up to the games themselves. When the heats start, he finds himself in the NBC press box, doing commentary on the races. Explaining what’s happening, and giving a little history on the sport and the racers. It’s hard to try and be unbiased when giving his picks to win. So he mostly ends up apologizing and rooting for team USA to win each and every heat. When it gets to be a medal race featuring JR, Apolo spends half the race not breathing. Eventually he pinches himself in the leg and starts commenting again, but his eyes are glued directly on JR, as he skates the 1500m. When JR skates across the line in 1st position winning a gold medal, Apolo can’t contain the whoop of joy he lets out. It’s a clean race, and no one is DQ’d.

A few minutes later and Apolo’s down in the heat box with the camera man at the ready to interview the medalists. JR steps off the ice flushed red with victory, swiping the sweaty hair off of his forehead, and carrying his helmet. He sees Apolo there and lets out a happy yell, flinging himself at Apolo in a hug, who staggers into the wall behind him, laughing.

“Congratulations, man. Told you it would happen!” he shouts, pulling back from the hug. JR grins at him then into the camera.

“That’s one gold for Team USA, and its day one of competition!” he cheers. Apolo laughs.

“What do you think are the chances of a better metal haul from the current US Short Track team, over last Olympics?” Apolo asks, holding the microphone for JR.

“I think chances are good. I mean, it’s a bit different without you on the team, but we have a lot of great guys, and only one rookie. But Tyler? He’s amazing. I think he’ll do good here, and the rest of us, man we’re so hungry to do well. Simon and Travis and Jordan, they want to medal in individual races, and we all want another relay medal, so if we can do that, I think 5 or 6 medals that’s pretty good, better than Vancouver where you were a total medal hog!” JR jokes. Apolo shrugs at the camera.

“This has been 12 years in the making for you, JR, how’s it feel to be an Olympic Champion?” he asks.

“It’s amazing!” JR bounces up and down, mugging for the camera. Then he turns to Apolo. “This is weird, just so you know.”

“Being interviewed after winning a gold medal? Or being interviewed by ME after winning a gold medal?” Apolo asks seriously. JR bursts out laughing.

“A bit of both actually!” Apolo smiles at him. “I mean I’ve known you practically as far back as I can remember. You’re the reason I started Short Track.”

“Well I’m not surprised you won, JR. So, what are you going to do tonight to celebrate?” he asks.

“Well I have press for a little while, and then we are having a party at USA House, gonna go hang out with my teammates and a bunch of my fellow American Athletes for a little while. Then it’s back to my dorm to get a good night’s sleep. I do have practice in the morning.” Apolo grins at him.

“Looks like you have quite the night planned out. Well, congratulations, JR. You earned a night of celebration!” JR grins for the camera, holding his hands in the air in victory. Apolo throws the feed back to the main desk, and smiles at JR, lowering the microphone. “Dude! Gold!” he barks. JR laughs again.

“You’ve totally got to come tonight! You never had much time to come celebrate in Vancouver, you can at least come celebrate here, when one of your friends winds a gold medal!” JR teases. Apolo laughs.

“I’ll try and stop by, but look you gotta go, don’t let me distract you!” JR hugs him again.

“Call Jordan’s cell. I’ll probably have to turn mine off!” JR laughs, heading back to the locker room. Apolo shakes his head, his smile huge on his face.

 

Apolo shows up sans camera crew, an hour after the team’s arrival at USA house. He finds the guys holding court in a corner booth, drinking bottled water and eating nuts out of a bowl in the center of the table. Every few minutes someone else comes over and congratulates JR, who smiles and blushes a little, shaking hands and posing for pictures. Apolo makes his way slowly through the room, saying hi to old friends, and meeting the newer athletes/coaches as he goes. When he gets to the booth he’s greeted enthusiastically, high-fiving all of the guys, Tyler and Jordan scrunching up on their side of the booth to make room for him to sit down. JR beams at him, holding out his gold medal. Apolo takes it eagerly, tracing the grooved surface, and smiling at the warm yellow color.

“Pretty sweet, J!” he says, handing the heavy medal back. JR puts the red ribbon back around his neck, his smile wide and satisfied. “How many more you think you’ll bring home?” he asks. JR laughs.

“Who knows? Short Track is..” he trails off and the rest of them loudly finish his sentence, Apolo included, “UNPREDICTABLE!” they yell. JR nods, gulping the last of his bottle of water. It’s a half an hour later that the guys start getting ready to head back to the dorms. Apolo hugs each of the guys, Tyler actually getting one instead of a handshake this time. JR asks Apolo if he’ll meet him for dinner the next night. Apolo, knowing that men’s figure-skating is taking over the oval for the next few days agrees.

 

“Let me ask you this question, Apolo. When you saw me race for the first time, did you really think I’d be an Olympic Gold Medalist someday?” JR asks. Apolo thinks a second, walking aimlessly beside JR as they walk through the streets of Sochi after dinner.

“Which time?” he asks. “The first time I saw you skate on ice, when you were like 14, or the first time I saw you skate on inline when you were like 4?” JR’s mouth drops open. He stops walking turning to look at Apolo in amazement.

“You can’t possibly remember that!” JR argues. Apolo grins.

“You were so cute! Throwing your little chubby arms up in the air, your helmet all crooked!”

“You’re making that up!” JR laughs.

“No, Dude, I was there! Ask your mom!” Apolo teases, stepping around JR to continue walking. “But really, I think I did know when you were four that you were born to race. You were a natural even then. And I can honestly say that I am so proud of you.”

“That’s good to hear!” JR says smiling, catching up with Apolo. “Can’t wait to see how proud you are when I win gold again.” Apolo laughs.

“Don’t get cocky!” he says watching JR’s face flush in the cold air.

“It’s not about me being cocky. It’s just a goal I’ve set for myself,” JR explains.

“Ugh huh…” Apolo replies, looking at JR out of the corner of his eye. “Well you don’t have anything else to prove to me,” he says quietly. “You haven’t for a while.” JR shakes his head.

“I win another gold medal and I’ll have proven something to myself,” JR answers. Apolo stops walking again, turning to look at him.

“You’re not going to make me wait until you beat my 8 medal medal-count are you?” he asks. “Because I hate to break it to you, JR but there are only 4 events here, bringing your potential medal count to 6, and while I’m sure you would eventually meet if not beat my record, I really don’t want to stay celibate for another 4 years,” he whines. His words surprise a laugh out of JR, who looks completely shocked at his words.

“Dude, I’m not that cruel!” he promises. Apolo smiles at him. JR bites his lip. “I tell you what,” he says stepping closer to Apolo. “One more gold medal and then I’ll kiss you,” he offers. Apolo laughs.

“How about one more medal, period, and you’ll kiss me,” he counters. JR nods.

“That sounds fair.” They stood in silence a minute before JR broke it. “I have practice in the morning. See you on Wednesday?” he asks. Apolo nods.

“Of course, have a good practice, JR,” he says. JR smirks at him, jogging to the bus waiting on the corner, ready to take athletes back to the village.


	2. Chapter 2

The following Wednesday, was the 1000m heats, and the 5000m relay semifinals. It wasn’t until Saturday that 1000m Quarterfinal, semifinals, and finals were held. JR medaled again. In fact JR took gold again, and the relay team made it into the finals with no difficulty. This time when Apolo showed up at USA House for the after celebration he was greeted with excited hugs and a seat next to JR who was beaming and across from Travis who had won bronze.

They stay later this time, celebrating the double medaling; the two winners splitting a single lite beer between them. The team leaves the bar to head up to bed in one big group, and Apolo smiles as JR makes excuses to stay behind for a minute. Then JR is herding Apolo down a hallway and into a dark corner where several of the overhead lights have already burnt out. This is how Apolo finds himself pressed bodily into the wall, with JR pressed up against him; face so close, but not close enough. JR’s smiling at him, his eyes lighting up with glee, his gold medal pressed between them, hard and heavy against Apolo’s chest.

“Double gold medalist JR Celski,” Apolo says quietly in his best sportscaster voice. JR laughs.

“Knock it off,” JR says grinning before turning suddenly serious. Apolo put his arms around him, tugging him a half an inch closer. “Gonna kiss you now. You ready?” JR asks. Apolo laughs.

“I don’t know. I think we should build it up a little more. There hasn’t been a long enough wait or a high enough level of anticimph,” JR cuts him off by pressing his mouth to Apolo’s. Apolo immediately stops talking and starts kissing back. This time when they break for air, Apolo doesn’t try and stop JR from diving back in, instead he meets him halfway, their teeth clicking together audibly, and making them both pull-back laughing and wincing at the same time.

When their mouths come together again it’s Apolo driving the kiss. He opens his mouth, biting a little at JR’s lower lip. JR moans pressing his hips tighter to Apolo’s letting him feel his arousal. Apolo gasps, releasing JR’s mouth. They both pant for a moment, breathing in each other’s air. It’s Apolo who breaks the moment, tilting his head back against the wall, and looking up at the dark ceiling.

“It’s late. You have practice in the morning,” he says quietly, reluctance ringing in every word. JR groans letting his head fall to rest on Apolo’s shoulder.

“One of these times I’m going to kiss you, and you aren’t going to make me stop,” he says gruffly. Apolo laughs.

“I look forward to that moment, just as much as you do, JR,” Apolo whispers, pressing his own hard-on into JR’s thigh, making him jerk and shudder, his breath catching in his chest. JR pushes away from Apolo, breaking the hold the older man has on him. He leans back against the opposite wall taking a moment to regain his breath.

“This sucks,” JR says vehemently. Apolo laughs, nodding in agreement.

“I think it’s best if I just keep my distance until you’re done. You’ve got the 500m heats on Wednesday and the 500m and 5000m relay finals on Friday. That’s less than a week away.” JR lets his head fall back onto the wall behind him. He nods, one hand curling around his gold medal. Apolo steps closer but doesn’t touch. “You’re doing amazing. I’m not going to be the reason it all gets fucked up. There will be plenty of time after. Now go to bed.” JR rolls his eyes.

“You’re not my mother, Apolo,” he replies. Apolo looks at him oddly.

“I should hope you don’t kiss your Momma like you kiss me!” he jokes. JR smacks him in the shoulder half-heartedly. Apolo laughs, leaning closer. “You were born to skate, JR. That’s one thing I’ve never doubted. I’ll be here when you’re done. You don’t have anything to prove to me.” JR’s hands come up to grip the lapels of Apolo’s sport coat.

“You and I are going to have a lot of fun when I’m finished. No excuses!” he orders. Apolo nods in agreement.

“I’ll be all yours. I promise. I have nothing scheduled. You on the other hand will probably be very very busy, Mr. Two Gold Medals.” JR groans letting Apolo go, slumping backward against the wall again in defeat.

“You’ll still be at all the races, though, right?” he asks hesitantly.

“Every single one!” he promises. JR sighs.

“Okay,” he says reluctantly. Apolo steps away from him, not wanting to give into temptation and start kissing him again. JR pulls his jacket closed, zipping it up over the medal. “I’ll see you on Wednesday?” he asks. Apolo nods.

“Yes!” he says smiling brightly.

“Good night, Apolo,” JR says quietly biting his lower lip.

“Good night, JR,” Apolo watches JR turn and walk back down the hallway.

 

On Wednesday JR gets taken out during his heat for the 500m by a pissed off Korean and a bad judge’s call. He’s ticked but lets it go pretty quickly. Things go better for the team as a whole later when Jordan and Simon both make it through their heats and into the semifinals. Jordan makes it through his Semi in first position, which guarantees him one of the best spots in the final. Simon however gets pushed during a bad pass and goes down hard into the wall. Luckily the judges this time find in favor of Simon and he gets advanced to the final, which puts him in the outside lane.

On the last day of short track racing, Friday, the finals for the 500m are raced. JR watches from the stands with his parents, rooting for Simon and Jordan, both of whom are racing for their first individual medal. While JR roots in the stands surrounded by his friends, family, and the friends and family of his teammates, Apolo watches from the NBC commentary booth.

“I’m Greg McDonald, and this Apolo Ohno. Welcome back to Short Track here at the Olympic Oval in Sochi, Russia, home of the 2014 Winter Olympic Games. Tonight promises to be an exciting night!” Greg says smiling into the camera.

“Yes it does, Greg. Tonight the finals for the two most exciting and dangerous races in Short Track Speed Skating will be held and it’s sure to be both exciting and unpredictable.”

“Apolo, why don’t you tell us a little more about the 500m race, which is up first,” Greg says. Apolo smiles cocking his head to the side.

“I’d love too. The 500m race is the shortest race in short track. At just 4 and ½ laps of the ice, it’s over quickly, with little room for error. In the 500m, it’s all about speed. The skaters need a quick start, to get to the front, and to hold their position. Passing is extremely difficult in 500m, and a single mistake can end the skater’s race with no hope of recovery. The 500m is like a sprint. It’ll be over in a matter of seconds and with this line up it’s sure to be interesting.”

“Let’s talk about that line-up. We have two American’s, two Koreans, and a skater from Great Britain. What do you think are our guys’ odds?” Greg asks. Apolo shakes his head.

“Short track is about as unpredictable a sport as it gets. Jordan Malone is a great sprinter, and he’s done really well in all his heats, landing him in the first starting position, which is ideal for getting to the head of the pack, and therefore crucial in the 500m. As long as he gets a good start, and watches for passes he has a very good chance of medaling. Simon Cho our second US skater is in the worst position, the outside lane position. If he has any chance of medaling he needs a perfect start, quick feet, and some luck. But I wouldn’t count Cho out, the kids a fighter. I think we might have a chance of a double medaling in this event, Greg.”

“That would be a first for Men’s US Short Track for the 500m, would it not?” Greg asks.

“Yes it would, but I think it’s possible. But again, this is short track, you never know until the race is done.”

“What can you tell us about the other three skaters, Apolo?” Greg asks.

 

It seems to take hours before the race is ready to begin, even though Apolo knows it has only been a few minutes. As soon as Jordan and Simon step out on the ice, Apolo feels himself leaning forward in his seat in anticipation. He watches as each racer is announced, Greg giving their accomplishments as they go. Then they are lining up, and Apolo sucks in a deep breath.

“Here we go, the fastest minute in Short Track Speed Skating. Don’t look away folks, this will be over in less than 60 seconds,” Greg warns, speaking quietly. Apolo steadies his breathing, and resists the urge to jump as the starter gun fires.

“That was an excellent start for both Malone and Cho. Malone made it to the front of the pack, as we suspected he would, but Cho has jumped to the third spot in the pack due to a near perfect start!” Apolo explains. He watches as they round the corner. “This race will involve some dangerous passes, so we should expect some possible jostling in the next few laps as they fight for medal position.”

“Malone, Hung-Soo, Cho, in first, second, and third position!” Greg shouts.

“Wait, Carter from Great Britain is setting up a pass, and he does it, he’s passed into third, sending Cho back to fourth. But if I know Simon he won’t stay there for long!” Apolo answers. “And he does it, Cho passes Carter, regaining his third place position!”

“What’s this? Hung-Soo has tripped on his own skate blade, he’s gone down! He’s out of this race! Cho moves up to second!” Greg yells. Apolo is out of his seat, glad to not be on camera.

“Malone remains in first position with only 1 lap to go!” he yells. The bell sounds to signal the final lap, and Apolo wants to hold his breath but knows he can’t. “They could have it, 1st and 2nd to the Americans. Cho just has to hold off Carter, who’s close behind him!” As they round the last turn, Simon puts on a burst of speed, to separate himself from the Brit behind him, flying across the line, just behind Jordan, securing himself a silver medal, and granting Jordan an undisputed Gold. “They did it!”

“Gold for Jordan Malone of Denton, TX, and Silver for Simon Cho of Laurel, MD!”

“There’s going to be another party at USA House tonight!” Apolo adds.

“Wait, the judges seem to be reviewing the race, could there be a disqualification?” Greg asks. Apolo watches as Jordan and Simon stop celebrating to watch their coaches for information. A note is passed to Apolo.

“The Korean coaches are saying that Cho bumped Hung-Soo going around the third turn, causing the fall. They want the race rerun,” Apolo explains, feeling his heart clench. Turning to his monitor, “Lets watch the replay of that fall, Greg.” They watch camera 2s version of the fall.

“I don’t know, Apolo. That looks a little inconclusive to me,” Greg says solemnly. Apolo stays silent, watching the replay from a different camera angle, this one camera 4. This angle clearly shows that Simon had not bumped Hung-Soo. The angle was perfect. It followed them through the turn, and at no point did Simon’s body, hands, or skates touch the Korean as he stumbled and fell.

“If they recall this race, it will be a flat out bad call, Greg. Cho is in the clear on this one. There is no way he caused this fall!” Apolo looks up, watching Simon’s face as he skates beside a shocked Jordan, sees the fear written in his eyes. Jordan has a hand on the taller man’s shoulder, squeezing it in support as they awaited the official’s decision.

The US coaches had sent Jae Su Chun, their head coach over to talk to the officials, who are watching and re-watching the race from different angles. Apolo waves to Jimmy Jang, the assistant coach’s direction, capturing his attention. He holds up 4 fingers. Jimmy looks confused. Apolo mimed holding a camera and again holds up 4 fingers. Jimmy nods, moving to talk to Jae Su. He whispers in Jae Su’s ear, Jae Su nods, and leans forward to speak to the officials again. They listen to him for a moment, than speak to the technician in charge of the replay. They bend over the screen, watching from that angle. The lead judge nods, conferring with the others and writes something down on a sheet of paper. Jae Su looks up triumphant, reaches out and shakes the head official’s hand, then turns back to Simon and Jordan as they circles the rink. He points at Jordan and holds up one finger. He points at Simon and holds up two. The two let out a shout of excitement, their hands flying in the air. Simon turns, scooping up Jordan, and swinging him around. Apolo listens to Greg as he announces the final standings, a smile spilling across his face.

“What an excellent race. Gold and Silver for the USA, and Bronze for Great Britain!” Greg exclaims.

“Multiple camera angles save the day again!” Apolo intones. “USA’s first double medal on the Men’s Short Track 500m, and the first individual medals for Jordan Malone and Simon Cho. Good for them,” he watches with pride as both Simon and Jordan circle the ice with US flags on their shoulders. Scanning the crowd, he finds JR celebrating in the audience and being hugged enthusiastically by Jordan’s mom Peggy.

The celebration does not get to go on forever. The women’s 1000m final was due to start soon, so after a victory lap Simon and Jordan, along with the rest of the skaters had to clear the ice, allowing the women on to have their turn. Following that race however, was the men’s 5000m relay final.

Apolo sits in the booth looking through his notes on the 5000m preliminary races. USA is in an ok starting position, 3rd. With the Koreans in 4th, who will likely be hungrier than ever after losing out on a medal in the 500m. Jordan and Simon might however be a little slower than normal, after pushing so hard in the 500m. Apolo bites his lip trying to picture the possible outcomes. Greg alerts him that they were about to go back on.

“Welcome back. This is Greg McDonald and Apolo Ohno. This is the last short track speed skating event of these Olympic games, the Men’s 5000m relay final.”

“That’s right Greg. 4 teams of 4, racing for 45 laps. There will be 16 skaters out on the ice for this competition, and we can expect another tight race. We’ve got the Canadian team, the Italian team, the US team, and the Korean team, who were favored in this event coming into these Olympic Games. But I can honestly say the last two weeks may have changed that.”

“I agree, Apolo. Team USA has been doing exceptionally well these games. JR Celski has two gold medals from this Olympics. Earlier this week, Travis Jayner took home bronze, and just this evening we watched Jordan Malone win gold, and Simon Cho win silver. This is now officially the most decorated US short track team in Olympic history.”

“Yes, I’m quite proud of how the guys are doing these games. They’re a phenomenal team, and all four of the skaters participating in the final relay are returning Olympians who have been skating together for well over 5 years. They know how to work together, and they’re some of the best in the world, as their individual medals prove. Tyler Baxter, this year’s rookie, did an excellent job in the semifinal race, securing the relay team a spot in the final. If they can medal tonight, he’ll have earned his place on the podium right alongside his teammates. The Canadians have a good shot as well. They’ve worked extremely hard in preparation for this relay. They absolutely want to defend their gold medal from Vancouver, and even sacrificed having a good sprinter on the team this Olympics, in order to keep their distance racers.”

“Apolo, what can we expect for this race? Will it be more strategic?” Greg asks. Apolo smiles into the camera.

“The relay is always complicated and it’s highly strategic. Each team has four members on the ice at once, 3 circling in the center, and one actively skating the race. Every few laps one skater from each team will leave the center of the ice, skate out in front of their team member, receive a push and take over the race for another couple laps. Meanwhile skaters will have to dodge each other as they make their exchanges, all while fighting to keep their positions and trying not to fall. With this many skaters on the ice the race will get chaotic fast, and the ice will get torn up quickly, making it more and more hazardous as the race progresses. Decisions about when to do exchanges, who to leave on for the final 2 laps, and when and where to pass will all affect the outcome.”

Apolo can barely control his nerves as the four teams are announced and step out onto the ice. He keeps his tone mild, calm, and tries not to let his nerves show through as he makes small talk.

The race starts out pretty typically. Korea is first off the line, as expected, with USA and Canada right behind, Italy falling to fourth. The teams aren’t picking up speed yet, but jostling for position has already started. Canada passes USA into second, Italy passes USA into third, sending USA back to fourth. USA, led by Simon makes it back into third, sending Italy back to fourth. And so on, the four teams changing position almost like clockwork. It is in the 12 lap, just as Jordan is getting the push that things go horribly wrong. The Italian skater slips and slides, pin-wheeling his arms, and catching Jordan’s rear skate. The two both go down, crashing legs first into the wall. Travis immediately goes back out to tag Jordan, but stops at the sight of blood pooling under the Italian skaters legs. He holds an arm in the air, calling for a medic, and kneels between the two. Jordan is already sitting up, a pained look on his face as he clutches his right ankle. The ref stops the race, and the crowd starts to talk in earnest. This is highly unusual. Within a few seconds medics are on the ice, tending to both hurt skaters. The Italian is bleeding heavily, but his cut turns out to be on the back of his calf, where his leg-guard doesn’t protect him and he is in no immediate danger of bleeding to death. Travis is ordered back into the center of the ring, where he joins JR and Simon, who are still skating slow laps, to keep their legs warmed up, and watches intently as the medics check on Jordan.

Apolo and Greg kept the viewing public appraised for a few minutes, before the coverage is cut to go to the other scheduled events. Only then is Apolo able to relax and just worry about his friend, instead of worrying about his job. He scans the crowd, finally finding Peggy in the section of seating closest to the ice, visibly upset and hanging on tightly to Bob Celski. He watches as the plastic wrap and a pressure bandage are wrapped around the Italian’s leg, and a second set of medics help Jordan climb to his feet. Apolo watches closely as Jordan tries to put pressure on his injured ankle, wincing and shaking his head no. The medics help him off the ice, where a wheel chair is waiting for him. The official appears to be reviewing the tape, trying to figure out who needs to be DQ’d and how best to handle the situation. As Apolo watches the Assistant Ref comes over to tell him about the injuries.

In the end the Italian team is DQ’d and will not be allowed to restart the race. Jordan is out, and due to the rules Tyler cannot be substituted in, which means that USA is now down to just 3 skaters. But all is not lost. With just three teams left in the final they are guaranteed a medal. The Koreans are tired from leading and pushing so hard in the first race, and pissed about the race being stopped and rerun, which means that USA might have a chance at silver, or even gold. It is turning out to be the strangest 5000m relay in Olympic history. The skaters all leave the ice while it’s resurfaced, bouncing in their skates to keep their legs primed, and staying huddled together with Jae Su, not wanting to lose their racing mind-set.

With Jordan out, it is up to Simon, as their only remaining sprinter, to start. Going back on the air and explaining the situation and its implications, Apolo watches as JR and Travis get ready in the center, with the three Koreans and the three Canadians. This is going to be a long race for the Americans, and for the first time in a long time, Apolo wishes he was out there with them.

At the sound of the starter gun, the skaters take off, slower than before. Simon fights his way to second place and keeps the position, pushing off Travis who also holds it. Than it is JR’s turn. Things go on like this for some time. The three teams seem hesitant to try any dangerous passes, and are moving at close to top speed. With only three teams skating in the final, there is no desperation to get into medal position. Everyone will medal; it is only which color they will win which they are fighting over now. All three teams are tired. Many of the skaters had competed earlier that day in the 500m races, and they’d already done a 12 lap final that had been called off, so the race overall is slower than usual. The three teams are content to stay close, and leave the real racing for the last few laps.

It’s with 20 laps left to go that the race really begins. USA keeps hold of their 2nd place position, with the exhausted Koreans, close behind, and the seasoned distance racers on the Canadian team, easily outpacing both of them. The pace slowly increases, until the 40th lap when they are once more at full speed. At 3 laps left, Travis pushes off to JR, who skates the last three laps for the team. He easily bypasses the extra skaters as the others trade off with just 2 laps to go. The Canadians pull further ahead, widening the gap, and JR grimacing, races to keep up. The Korean skater behind JR tries to go around JR in the last turn, but runs out of room, and has to fall back.

They skate across the line. Canada, USA, Korea. The results are official. USA won silver. Apolo shouts his approval, and watches his three friends cling to each other on the ice.

“What an amazing feat. Too come back from losing a teammate and to take the silver medal! WOW!” Greg exclaimed. Apolo nods.

“It’s amazing they were able to keep that speed. These guys skated a lot more laps than their counterparts on the Canadian and Korean teams. I’m extremely proud of all of the US relay team right now!” Apolo adds.

“What a phenomenal achievement!” Greg concluded.

 

There is no party in the USA house that night, well there is, but not for the men’s short track team. The entire team is in demand for press all night long. Apolo gets bumped in the interview department when Bob Costas and the main USA press decide they want the interview instead. So he goes to the press center, and watches the reporters there go nuts over the story. He leaves for dinner and comes back a few hours later and it’s still crazy. The men’s short track speed skating relay team is the come-back story of the games. Their silver medal was being heralded as strongly as a gold would have been. Close to midnight Jordan arrives on crutches and with his ankle in an air splint.

“I fucking fractured it, Apolo! Can you believe that? At the Olympics!” he whines half joking. Apolo laughs and claps him on the back, watching him sway on his crutches.

“At least it was during the relay and you’d already won your individual gold! You have to think positively here Malone,” he says earning a laugh in return.

“I can’t fault that logic. Hey, you know where they guys are?” Jordan asks looking around. Apolo shrugs, drinking from his 3rd cup of coffee.

“Doing an interview for CNN I think. Closed set. The entire team is in high demand tonight. Here let me take you back to the conference room. They just brought some food in for them. I hear they’re letting them have a half an hour to relax before round two of the interviews starts. You can wait there and put that foot up.” Jordan nods, and Apolo leads him through the halls to the conference room. It’s empty and waiting, the food untouched. Jordan’s mouth starts to water at the site of the spread and Apolo makes him sit down with his foot up in the seat of a second chair, then dutifully goes along the table, loading the plate up with whatever Jordan asks for.

He sits down and watches Jordan dig in. It’s only a few minutes later that the door opens and the rest of the team piles in. It takes a minute for them to notice Jordan sitting there, and he dutifully accepts hugs and hand slaps from each of them, telling them all about his injury and prognosis. Tyler notices Apolo first, several minutes after their entrance, not that Apolo blames them. The excitement of the night, lateness of the hour, and joy at seeing Jordan having left them a bit blind to the rest of the room. Tyler’s response is to let out a little shout and sprint over to give Apolo a hug. Apolo stands up to hug him back, and is soon greeted by Travis in similar fashion. Then it’s JR’s turn. He hugs Apolo tightly, and when he pulls away his eyes do a quick sweep of the room. Finding the door closed, and the blinds shut, and no one but his team and Apolo present, he leans forward and claims Apolo’s mouth in a kiss. Apolo grins into the lip-lock, and starts to laugh when the rest of the team starts to shout and clap and make a ruckus. Pulling back he looks up into JR’s eyes, and blushes a little at the suggestive comments of their friends. JR grins, ignoring the crowing on around them, and showing even white teeth. He pulls the silver medal off from around his neck and puts it around Apolo’s.

“Look what we got!” he says teasingly. Apolo shakes his head, sitting back down in his seat and shoving JR toward the food.

“Go eat something,” he says, picking the medal up to look at it more closely. He smiles at the “Short Track Men’s 5000m Relay” engraved in the back. Once the rest of the team has loaded up their plates with food and sat down the questions begin. JR and Apolo refuse to answer the overly personal questions being flung their way and eventually the rest of the team stops teasing. Apolo hangs out there until the guys get called back to their seats in front of the cameras. He waves goodbye and sends JR a text message to call him in the morning when he’s gotten a little sleep so they can meet for lunch or something.

Instead JR shows up at his room at 9am, bleary eyed, and exhausted. He knocks on the door, and when Apolo answers it stares at him in confusion until Apolo tugs him inside.

“Jesus, JR? Have you not gotten any sleep at all?” he asks, tugging off JR’s jacket and flinging it into his closet. JR slumps onto the end of Apolo’s bed, and rubs at his eyes.

“No?” he says but it sounds like a question and the confusion on his face almost doubles. Apolo laughs a little, shaking his head. He pulls the medal off of JR’s neck, putting it safely away in the night stand drawer, and starts getting JR ready for bed. He pulls off his sweater, and unbuttons his press shirt. He tugs JR up into a standing position and pulls him around to the side of the bed. He pushes him down on his back. JR watches him tug his shoes and socks and pants off but doesn’t comment. Apolo tucks him into the bed, and shuts out the lights, tugging the curtains a little bit further closed, and double locking the door. He goes around the bed, and climbs in the other side, pulling the blankets up higher and pulling JR into his arms.

JR curls onto his side, his arm sliding around Apolo’s waist, his face pressed into Apolo’s shoulder, already halfway to unconscious.

“You should have just gone to bed,” Apolo whispers, half wanting to berate JR for being so ridiculous half happy JR came to him.

“Wanted be with you,” JR mumbled, sighing and snuggling closer. Apolo grins a little.

“We could have met for lunch. You didn’t have to come all the way out here,” he says. JR sighs, sliding a hand up the back of Apolo’s t-shirt, and wiggling a leg between Apolo’s thighs.

“Wanna be with you,” he repeats, trailing off and letting out a little snore.

Apolo smiles, giving up. He lays still, as JR seems to crawl slowly on top of him in his sleep. He breathes slowly, trying not to disturb him, as JR’s head makes its way to rest in the center of his chest. He watches the sun slowly creep up higher, tracking its progress on the far wall of his hotel room, where a sliver of light has seeped around the end of the curtained window. After a while he gives into the urge and watches JR sleep.

He looks younger while asleep, the tension in his shoulders and his forehead disappearing. JR’s been so keyed up, so worried and stressed about the games, and proving himself, and doing his best, that Apolo knows he hasn’t been sleeping well. Knows he hasn’t been getting the rest he really needs to function. He hadn’t wanted to say anything. Not wanting to tell JR what to do, or piss him off. Apolo’s glad that the games are over. That JR can sleep and won’t be woken up until he’s slept his fill. Apolo has no intention of waking him up either.

Apolo watches JR sleep until his own eyelids get heavy and he falls back asleep too. He wakes up a few hours later. The clock on the bedside table tells him it is late afternoon, and his stomach tells him it’s starving.

He eases out from under JR’s arm, moving away from where JR’s pressed all along his back, warm and toasty under the covers. Looking behind himself he sees JR still sleeping. Apolo climbs carefully out of the bed, and goes to sit at the desk. Picking up the hotel phone he orders up a few entrees, half healthy and half pure crap. Room service tells him he has half an hour, so Apolo goes to jump in the shower.

The water feels phenomenal. It’s hot and the water pressure is perfect. He wonders why he hadn’t realized this before. He should always take his showers in the middle of the evening, instead of early in the morning, when everyone else is trying to take one. He washes and shampoos, and even takes the time to condition. Then he spends a few minutes letting the hot water pound down on his back. When all of the muscles have unknotted and his back is fully relaxed he shuts the shower off and climbs out. He dries himself off and wraps a towel around his waist. Picking up his watch from the bathroom counter, he checks the time, and hurries to the closed bathroom door.

It’s when he steps out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom that JR springs. Apolo finds himself pressed to the wall next to the hotel room door, his towel flung to the floor and JR’s tongue pressing into his mouth. Apolo laughs, pulling JR closer, his hands crawling across JR’s bare back. JR moans, pressing their hips together, only JR’s boxers separating them. A door slamming out in the hallway distracts Apolo, and he pulls away. He gasps for air, clinging to JR as tightly as JR was clinging to him. JR grins at him, sliding a hand down to cup Apolo’s burgeoning erection.

“Can’t… room service is on the way up,” Apolo groans. “Be here any minute!” he moans. JR shakes his head.

“Already here! Arrived while you were in the shower,” he says panting for breath, reaching over to double lock the door, and move the security bar into place. He focuses back on Apolo, and the look in his eyes makes Apolo’s blood boil with heat. “No more interruptions. No more delays!” JR says it with exasperation and in such a tone there is no arguing with him. So instead Apolo decides to agree with him. He tugs JR’s hips into his own, slides his hands under the waistband of JR’s boxers, and starts to press him backward toward the bed.

The covers are a mess, flung back from where JR abandoned them to answer the door. Beside the bed, covered plates sit on a cloth covered rolling table. Apolo decides to ignore the food. As hungry as he is for nourishment, he’s hungrier for JR. He tugs JR’s boxers off, letting them pool on the floor and leans back to look his fill. JR is in top physical condition. He’s all smoothly cut muscles, and tan skin. His erection is hard and flushed red, and standing at full attention. In that moment there is nothing that Apolo wants in his mouth more. He reaches for it. JR groans falling back on the bed, legs spread. Apolo settles between his massive thighs, fondling JR’s dick, and kissing down JR’s stomach. One of JR’s hands curls around Apolo’s shoulder. The other goes into Apolo’s hair, tugging a little. Apolo laughs, licking at JR’s belly button and down the line of his abs. He pauses a minute, waits to hear JR let out a little whimper, before taking him into his mouth.

JR tastes amazing. He’s hot and thick, and just the right size. He tastes clean and male and just a little salty from the pre-come he’s started leaking. Apolo laps up the underside, feeling JR shake a little under him at the sensation. He tongues the head, feeling the smooth exposed tip with his lips and tongue before pulling him in deep and sucking. JR’s hips buck under him, and Apolo holds them down tightly to the bed, getting a frustrated whine for his effort. Apolo sucks and sucks until he feels JR start to squirm, thighs tensing. Then Apolo pulls back licking his lips and grinning up at JR.

“What do you want?” he asks, voice a little raw. Apolo watches JR pick his head up, eyes focusing slowly on Apolo’s face.

“Huh?” JR asks. Apolo grins, swiping his tongue across the tip of JR’s dick just to see his eyes cross.

“What do you want?” he asks again. JR makes that whining sound again, hands releasing Apolo to grip the sheets on either side of his own hips.

“I want to come. Let me come. Help me come!” JR pleads. Apolo crawls up the bed, straddling JR’s hips, and leans down over him. His hair, still wet from the shower falls into his eyes, and he stares down at JR a second before leaning down to kiss him, the wet bangs brushing against JR’s flushed cheeks. JR mouth sucks at Apolo’s. Lips and teeth and tongue pulling at Apolo’s making him gasp and groan. JR’s arms came up around Apolo, pulling him closer. Apolo broke the kiss, needing to breathe. JR smiles up at him. “Apolo,” he whispers, voice a little awed. Apolo laughs, leaning back down to take JR’s mouth again.

JR’s arms tighten around Apolo’s back, one strong leg coming high up over the back of Apolo’s thigh, and then JR’s flipping him. Apolo blinks and suddenly he’s looking up at JR. Sex mussed JR with his hair a mess, his face flushed, and his lips slick and puffy. Apolo gasps, rolling his hips up against JR’s ass. But now it’s different, JR’s the one holding Apolo flat to the bed, hands pressed to his shoulders, and he’s grinning down at Apolo, face triumphant and aroused. Apolo tugged at JR’s arms, growling a little in frustration. JR laughed.

“What? You can pin me down and torture me for as long as you want, but I can’t do the same?” he teased. He bent down and nipped at Apolo’s bottom lip, kissing across Apolo’s cheek and down his neck. He scooted backward and fastened his mouth to Apolo’s nipple, making him groan.

“You can do whatever you want JR. I just thought you’d want to have an orgasm sooner rather than later,” Apolo offered. JR picked his head up, his grin was blinding and made Apolo’s head rush a little bit.

“What did you have in mind?” JR asked. Apolo reached for the bedside drawer. He pulled back holding a condom in his hand. JR’s smile grew impossibly wide, as he took it from Apolo and bent down to claim his mouth again in another aggressive kiss.

 

It was a few hours later that Apolo managed to get off the bed without getting dragged back down again. He made it to the dinner tray and grabbed a plate at random, bringing it right back with him to the bed where JR waited. Removing the lid, they eyed what the luck of the draw had granted them for nourishment.

“OH dear God, is that what I think it is?” JR asked breathless. Apolo laughed.

“Yep. Cheeseburger and fries, complete with deep fried onion rings and a pickle on the side!” he answered, handing the plate over. He watched JR clutch the plate to his chest, balancing it carefully as he slid back to rest against the headboard of the bed. He set the plate down in his lap and picked up the burger as if it were a precious gift. Bringing it to his mouth took a bite. The sound that came from deep in JR’s throat brought back pleasant memories of their earlier activities and left Apolo fighting to hide a fresh erection.

“I don’t even care that it’s cold!” JR groaned taking another big bite, ketchup running down his chin. Apolo laughed leaning forward to kiss him, tasting cheese and beef, and grease. He licked the stray ketchup off JR’s chin, and took a tiny bite of the burger sitting in JR’s hand. JR whined, pulling it away from him. Apolo shook his head, sitting back.

“I just wanted a taste!” he said chewing and swallowing. It was good, yes, even cold. Standing up from the bed he reached for a second covered plate. Removing the lid he discovered a chef’s salad. Grabbing up a packet of dressing, a fork, and the cloth napkins from the tray he returned to the bed. JR scooted over, giving him room to lean back beside him.

They ate in silence, punctuated by chewing and the occasional grunt or groan of pleasure from JR. Apolo just shook his head and ate his salad without complaint. He honestly couldn’t blame JR. The guy had been in training for a while, denied the simple pleasures of burgers and all things fried for months. He, on the other hand, treated himself every few weeks to something disgustingly unhealthy and always enjoyed every minute of it. He was perfectly content eating his salad and watching JR scarf down a burger and fries.

As soon as the food had been finished, including the single slice of raspberry cheesecake, which JR had kindly shared, they’d cleared the plates away and sent the table out into the hallway for pick-up. Doing so had required that they at least put on something before stepping out into the hall. They’d both pulled on pairs of Apolo’s sweat pants for the ordeal. However as soon as the door was shut and locked behind them, JR had stripped his off once more and climbed back into bed naked, looking at Apolo expectantly. Apolo had rolled his eyes and followed JR’s example.

No more sex had been had. Just lazy kissing and, as girly as it would have seemed to say it out loud, cuddling. JR had stretched himself down the bed, and crawled on top of Apolo again, not that the older man seemed to mind. Then they started talking.

“Good end to an Olympic Games?” Apolo asked. He was tracing the muscles of JR’s back, and watching him breathe without trying to be obvious about it. JR smiled up at him.

“Pretty good. Better than last time! This time I got 9 uninterrupted hours of sleep, greasy food, and multiple orgasms... that’s pretty hard to beat!” he grinned.

“Well don’t hold me to the multiple orgasms thing. This was probably a onetime deal. I’m not as young as I used to be,” Apolo teased.

“Understandable. I mean you’re sooo old now!” JR joked. He sat up a little reaching for Apolo’s head. “Is that a grey hair?” he asked, squinting, and separating out a section of Apolo’s treasured locks. Apolo smacked his hands away, pushing JR off of his body and onto his back.

“So not cool!” he growled. JR shook with laughter as Apolo pinned him to the bed. “You can be so obnoxious!” Apolo said, fighting back a smile. JR stopped laughing grinning up at Apolo from the middle of the bed, all dark hair and tan skin against white pure sheets. His smile was blinding, and Apolo blinked at him, transfixed.

“What?” JR asked looking confused. He wiggled his hands free, and Apolo didn’t try to stop him. JR’s hands slid up, cradling Apolo’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asked. Apolo blinked his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I can’t believe this finally happened,” Apolo whispered. JR’s smile turned mischievous.

“Was I really that unbelievably good? Because let me tell you I have never had a complaint raised against m…” JR’s words were cut off when Apolo’s mouth pressed to his.

They kissed again and again, mouths moving, bodies shifting. Neither wanted to break the kiss to breathe let alone talk. One thing led to another, and Apolo found himself kissing and nipping his way down the bed to take JR into his mouth again. This time, however, he doesn’t stop. He sucks and licks and pulls until JR is groaning, coming in Apolo’s mouth and going limp against the hotel mattress. When Apolo pulls back and crawl up to the top of the bed, he finds JR lying there blissed out and nearly unconscious again. Apolo pulls the covers back up over them both and holds on tight to the younger man as he falls back to sleep, too high on pleasure and exhausted from all the sex, sugar, and the past few weeks of exertion and stress to even notice that Apolo hadn’t gotten off this time.

Apolo stays awake a long time, watching JR sleep. At one point he gets up to go to the bathroom, and when he returns he opens the drapes a little letting in the moonlight from outside. He walks back to bed and pauses at the foot, taking in the sight before him - a sleeping JR, tousled hair falling over his forehead, impossibly long eyelashes resting against his cheek, full lips parted slightly, and the moonlight spilling across his body, highlighting the curve and cut of muscle. He is breathtaking. Apolo sinks to sit on the end of the bed. This is real, he realizes. This isn’t messing around, or fuck buddies, or a one-night stand. Apolo bends over resting his head in his hands. He can’t believe this is really happening. Not really. Not even after all the months of flirting and build-up. Not even when he knows that it’s been practically set in stone that this was going to happen since the last Olympic games, and that horrible mess that was Washington, DC.

Suddenly Apolo is forcing himself to take deep breaths. It’s not regret he’s feeling. He knows he wouldn’t give up the last 24 hours for anything in the world. No it’s something worse. Doubt. They’re at such different parts of their lives. There’s such a large age difference. He should feel like a pedophile. He’s known JR since he was three years old for God’s sake! But no, he reminds himself. JR is all grown up. He’s an adult. He can vote, and drink, and fuck whomever he wants. He’d wanted Apolo. He’d wanted him for a long time, and suddenly Apolo’s hit with a new doubt. That maybe JR doesn’t want what he wants. That maybe this means something completely different to JR than it does to Apolo. The panic is rising when Apolo gets hit in the back with a pillow.

“Jesus, Apolo. I can hear you thinking all the way over here! Will you come back to bed? I’m fucking tired!” JR bitches, curling back up on his side, and tugging the blanket up. Apolo’s jaw drops as he stares at JR. Had that really just happened? “APOLO!” JR grouses. Apolo shakes his head laughing a little and stands up moving back up the bed. He climbs back under the covers behind JR, and when he slides up against him is surprised when JR rolls over, flinging his arm over Apolo’s chest, and pressing close. Apolo sighs, staring at the sliver of moonlight shining across the ceiling. JR breathes in and out slowly, his breath tickling the hairs in the center of Apolo’s chest. “This is real,” Apolo silently reassures himself.

“You’re doing it again,” the admonishment is slurred where JR’s lips are pressed to Apolo’s right peck.

“Doing what?” Apolo asks. JR sighs, blinking open brown eyes and rotating his head up to look Apolo in the eye.

“Thinking. Why does everything have to be so complicated with you?” he asks. He continues talking a second later, without giving Apolo time to speak. “There’s nothing to stress about in this situation. My parents like you. So do my brothers. The team doesn’t care. Who gives a shit what the rest of the world thinks? We’ll worry about all that crap later. But not now. Tonight I want to sleep and in the morning I want a nice blowjob and then bacon, eggs, hash-browns, and a huge cup of coffee. I’m going to need it before going out into the real world again. For now, close your eyes and go to sleep.” It’s not a suggestion. JR puts his head back down, and Apolo watches as he quickly falls back to sleep. Apolo lies there a while longer, grinning at the ceiling and planning out how he’s going to break the news to his father that little JR Celski is his boyfriend now. But no matter what scenario he comes up with, none of them end badly. His father is always happy that he’s so happy.

Apolo shakes his head, looking down at JR with pure happiness in his heart. Maybe this, right here, is the least complicated he’s ever felt about JR. Because right now? Right now he’s not worried. He’s not conflicted or confused. Instead he’s in love. And that’s not very complicated at all.

 

The End.


End file.
